Classroom of the Elite: Standing Firm in Class A — Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Disposable Goods with Utility Value

The steady, rolling boil of water echoed through the cramped kitchen, sending up plumes of white steam that clouded Kaedehara Tetsu’s vision. He casually stirred the pot with a pair of wooden chopsticks, his dark eyes tracking the churning ripples with a detached, empty focus.

Shoving the shoplifting footage in Kamuro Masumi’s face and demanding her obedience was certainly the easiest route. He could effortlessly collar her, forcing her to handle his dirty work and cater to his every whim under the constant threat of expulsion.

But a dynamic built purely on fear was brittle. It could shatter the moment the variables shifted. If the video ever leaked, or if Kamuro managed to secure a stronger patron, his newly acquired ‘dog’ would turn around and bite his throat. A hound that could think—and hold a grudge—was nothing but a ticking time bomb.

He wanted something far more deep than forced compliance.

What he truly desired was absolute, unbetrayable loyalty. The kind that bled directly from the heart. To make a person completely submit, one had to first systematically destroy everything they held dear, drowning them in an abyss of despair. Only then, at the very apex of their helplessness, would he step into the light as their savior, granting them a manufactured redemption.

By the end of that psychological wringer, he would no longer be her blackmailer. He would be her only anchor in the world.

As the thick udon noodles slowly unfurled in the boiling water, Tetsu’s thoughts aligned with equal clarity. To set the stage for Kamuro’s downfall, he needed a knife. Specifically, a blade dull and foolish enough to be used and discarded without tracing any blood back to his hands.

Using his own classmates in Class A was out of the question; sparking internal turmoil this early would only damage his own foundation. Class B was equally useless. If he handed the issue to Ichinose Honami, her bleeding heart would inevitably twist the situation into a nauseating session of mutual understanding and forgiveness, completely ruining his trap.

Class C… Tetsu’s lips curled into a faint, dismissive sneer. Ryuuen’s territory was still a disorganized, volatile mess of power struggles. Poking that hornet’s nest right now would only draw unwanted eyes.

By process of elimination, only Class D remained. The academy’s designated dumping ground for defective goods.

Three specific names immediately floated to the forefront of his mind.

Sudo Ken. Ike Kanji. Yamauchi Haruki.

The infamous Three Stooges of Class D.

Sudo was violent, impulsive, and possessed the temper of a cornered animal. Ike was a lecherous loudmouth who inevitably shrank back like a coward the second real danger presented itself.

Then there was Yamauchi Haruki.

Tetsu tapped his index finger lightly against the kitchen counter. Yes. He’s the one.

Yamauchi was a creature driven entirely by vanity. He was desperate to show off, constantly craving the attention and validation of women, yet utterly lacked the competence to actually earn it. He was devoid of intellect, easily manipulated, and highly susceptible to suggestion. A perfectly tailored pawn.

This was the same idiot who would eventually swallow Sakayanagi Arisu’s manufactured ‘love at first sight’ confession without a single ounce of skepticism, genuinely believing an elite girl was falling for him. He was foolish enough to take Sakayanagi’s empty verbal promises as gospel, willingly throwing himself into the fire to try and force Ayanokouji’s expulsion just for a scrap of praise.

If a mere verbal promise could make Yamauchi dance like a puppet, handing him tangible, explosive video evidence would make him lose his mind.

Tetsu just needed to drop the weapon into his lap. He would let Yamauchi play the role of the righteous hero. Given the boy’s desperate need for validation, the moment he possessed a weapon capable of striking down a haughty Class A student, he would sprint to make it public just to flaunt his own power.

The following morning passed in a blur of introductory lectures and syllabus reviews. The moment the midday bell rang, signaling the start of lunch, Tetsu stood up, bypassed the gathering crowds in his own room, and headed straight for the Class D corridor.

His dark eyes swept over the chaotic flood of students pouring out of the doorways. Thanks to Sudo Ken’s glaringly conspicuous red buzz cut, spotting his targets took less than ten seconds.

The trio was already walking together down the hall, laughing loudly and shoving each other, completely oblivious to the predator falling into step a dozen meters behind them. Tetsu maintained a casual, measured distance, blending perfectly into the flow of hungry students.

They eventually spilled into the main cafeteria. The massive hall was already packed shoulder-to-shoulder, a chaotic sea of chatter, clinking trays, and shouting teenagers. Tetsu hung back near the entrance, watching helplessly as the three boys handled the dense crowd to secure a table. The sheer volume of bodies made a quiet, isolated approach impossible.

Patience was a virtue he had in spades. He waited.

After roughly twenty minutes, the trio finished inhaling their cheap meals, stood up, and exited the cafeteria. Tetsu smoothly detached himself from the wall and trailed them outside, following their path across the campus grounds toward Keyaki Mall.

To his mild surprise, they bypassed the bustling arcade and electronics stores, pushing instead through the glass doors of a quiet, upscale coffee shop. Tetsu hadn’t pegged them for the cafe type, but the environment was perfect.

The afternoon crowd was thin, and a soft, rhythmic jazz melody drifted from the overhead speakers. Tetsu stepped inside, ordered a simple iced Americano at the counter, and chose a secluded corner seat by the window. He pulled out his phone, casually scrolling through his feed while keeping one ear trained on the table a few meters away.

“Ugh, it’s basically poison,” Ike groaned, his face scrunching up as he stared at his cup. “I don’t get why anyone would willingly drink this awful stuff.”

“It’s just what people who care about appearances pretend to like,” Yamauchi muttered, swirling the dark liquid with a look of deep regret. “Spending this much points on bitter water feels like a total scam.”

Tetsu took a slow sip of his own Americano, letting the cold, bitter bite wash over his tongue. He didn’t move. He simply waited for the conversation to inevitably drift to its natural destination.

It didn’t take long. Within minutes, the topic shifted from bad coffee to girls.

“Hey, don’t you guys think Ichinose Honami is totally top-tier?” Ike asked, leaning forward with a wistful, glassy-eyed expression. “That figure… man, it’s crazy.”

“Hmph, so what?” Yamauchi scoffed, waving a hand dismissively as he stared up at the ceiling, already lost in a delusion. “If you ask me, that Sakayanagi girl from Class A is the absolute best. She has this crazy, elegant aura… Man, if only I could make her my girlfriend…”

“Get real, idiot,” Sudo snorted, crossing his muscular arms. “You seriously think you have a shot at chasing a girl like that?”

Right on cue.

Tetsu set his coffee cup down on the wooden table. The ice clinked softly against the glass. He stood up, picked up his drink, and closed the short distance to their table, his footsteps entirely silent against the polished floor.

He stopped right beside Yamauchi’s chair, staring down at the daydreaming boy with a faint, dryly amused smile.

“Excuse me. I couldn’t help but overhear… did you just say you wanted to pursue Sakayanagi from my class?”

His tone was smooth, perfectly polite, yet it cut through their banter like a knife. All three boys flinched, their heads snapping up simultaneously. They froze, staring wide-eyed at the calm, impeccably dressed student looming over their table.

“W-who are you?” Yamauchi stammered, shrinking back slightly under Tetsu’s calculated scrutiny. “You’re from Class A?”

“Just a Class A student passing by,” Tetsu replied easily. “I heard some rather interesting aspirations from over here, so I thought I’d come say hello.”

Without waiting for an invitation, Tetsu pulled up an empty chair from the adjacent table and sat down right in their circle, placing his iced Americano in the center of their table.

His dark eyes swept over Sudo’s scowl and Ike’s nervous fidgeting, finally locking onto Yamauchi.

“Sakayanagi isn’t an easy target,” Tetsu noted, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. “However… I can offer you boys a chance for some ‘intimate contact’ with a different Class A girl. It really just depends on whether you have the guts to handle it.”

“What kind of chance?” Ike leaned in instantly, his previous caution entirely overridden by his raging hormones.

“There’s a certain girl in our class,” Tetsu began, his tone slow and deliberate. “On the surface, she acts incredibly aloof. Like some untouchable ice queen. But behind closed doors…”

He let the sentence hang in the air for a fraction of a second, a dark, meaningful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “She has a very dirty little habit.”

“A dirty habit?” Yamauchi echoed, his eyes practically gleaming with unsavory implications.

“A habit… of stealing things.”

Tetsu dropped the bombshell with the casual indifference of someone discussing the weather.

The three boys froze, exchanging bewildered, wide-eyed glances. The lecherous excitement vanished, replaced by sheer shock.

“Are you serious? Is that for real?” Sudo demanded, leaning forward.

“See for yourselves.”

Before reaching for his pocket, Tetsu casually shifted his chair backward. His eyes had already mapped the room; this new angle perfectly placed his broad shoulders between the table and the cafe’s overhead security camera.

Satisfied that the lens was blocked, he pulled out his phone. He didn’t hand it over to them. Instead, he kept it firmly in his own grip, resting his hands low on the table near his chest so the screen was completely shielded from any outside angle.

He tilted the display toward the three boys.

A video began to play. Against the brightly lit backdrop of a convenience store cosmetics aisle, Kamuro Masumi’s sharp profile was unmistakable. The slight, natural shake of the camera only added to the raw authenticity of the secret recording.

Sudo, Ike, and Yamauchi unconsciously leaned across the table, their heads practically pressed together as they stared at the glowing screen.

They watched in absolute silence as the aloof Class A girl picked up a small tube of lipstick. She inspected it, feigned a motion to place it back on the rack, and then—with a practiced, lightning-fast flick of her wrist—the item vanished, sliding smoothly into the deep pocket of her uniform skirt.

The footage was crystal clear. The crime was obvious.

The short, twelve-second clip ended, and immediately began to loop again.